


I’ve Shivers Down My Spine, And It Feels Devine.

by Pink_and_Velvet



Series: I’d Know You No Matter Who We Were [8]
Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: Anal Sex, Arranged Marriages, Blind Date, Complications, Divorces, Drinking, Exploration, Falling In Love, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, LGBTQ Themes, Love at First Sight, M/M, Nerves, Past Relationships, Pre-date jitters, Talking and laughing, hidden sexuality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-09-19 06:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20326861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/pseuds/Pink_and_Velvet
Summary: Tom Kazansky was about to meet his match. His match made in heaven. He was always a firm believer in Love At First Sight and was sure, that a certain Pete Mitchell would be the man to finally, sweep him off of his feet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in the early 2000’s, in a world where the boys are approaching their forties and gay marriage is already legal.
> 
> Lyrics taken from Maria McKee’s ‘Show Me Heaven’ or, the _Days Of Thunder_ love theme.__
> 
> Me fortieth _Top Gun_ fic.. bloody hell. But hey, I’m proud of it.__

_I'm not denyin'_  
_We're flying above it all_  
_Hold my hand, don't let me fall_  
_You've such amazing grace_  
_I've never felt this way_

_Oh, Show me heaven, babe._

* * *

Tom ran a shaky hand through his gelled blonde locks, he was stood in front of his mirror and frowning. Usually each hair had it’s perfect place, spiked up to the correct degree but today, he just couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t stop his jitters and it showed in his grasp.

He was about to meet his match, his supposed match made in heaven. The man of his dreams. The man who would fall in love with Tom, open up and confess his deepest and darkest secrets and, will want to stay with Tom. He’d want to love and care for him, forever.

Tom let out a huff and tore his eyes away from his reflection. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, he had a small blush forming on his cheeks at the mere thought of the man he was about to meet. His man. His one and only. His love.

They had been successfully matched about a month ago and had been chatting ever since. He didn’t know what the man looked like or much about his personal life as such yet but, he knew his name. The thought provided enough comfort and reassurance that Pete Mitchell was indeed, the one.

He knew that Pete was divorced and had a son. His ex-wife was about to take some high ranking government job up in DC, Pete didn’t elaborate much. Her name was Charlotte and Pete didn’t love her anymore, that was all that Tom knew.

He turned to his bed, eyes landing on the clothing laid out atop it. He’d set a casual outfit aside but he couldn’t decide on which shirt he liked better. Pete had texted him and asked if he wanted to visit some fancy Italian place on the coast, and all Tom could think was ‘what does one wear when they meet their future husband?’ It was a lot of pressure.

After a long internal argument that had lasted the past three days, he settled with a crisp white shirt and a dark pair of fitted jeans that he thought clung to his toned calves nicely. He buttoned his shirt and rolled up his sleeves trying to ignore the sweat of his palms. He cursed, when he couldn’t latch his watch right. It took him a couple of attempts but finally, his Rolex snapped into place.

It was almost 19:30, he had half an hour to get down to the Marina and to await the arrival of his would be husband, Pete. He decided to walk, a long walk that should help to calm his nerves and to settle his jitters.

Or he had hoped. He approached the restaurant and swore as the door handle almost slipped from him. He headed to the bar and ordered himself a shot, something to get him through the night, to get his heart rate down, or up, he wasn’t sure.

Tom didn’t drink much but he just needed to have something in his hands, something to hold and something to focus his attention on to. He kept himself upright, spine ram-rod straight as he downed another. He checked his watch, it was dead on 20:00.

Pete had asked him to meet him by the entrance so Tom, flushed, headed back out to wait. He squinted as more and more men passed by, none of them spoke to him like he hoped Pete would. His Pete. He waited a good twenty minutes or so before he heaved a sigh and turned on his heel, he needed a drink. The vodka was calling him from inside.

At that moment he felt a hand, rough and calloused, clap his shoulder. He froze, visibly blanked, as he was moved bodily towards the intruder. Tom stumbled slightly forward and he was caught in a strong vice- like grip. He’d bumped noses with..

“_Pete_.” He sounded breathless.

Tom violently blushed at the contact, at the huge beaming smile that Pete showed him.

“Not gonna _fly_ from me, are ya?” He asked Tom, with a wink.

Tom just sputtered something unintelligible and forced himself to calm down. To be the smooth operator Tom Kazansky that he’d gained such a reputation over. He mentally kicked himself and got his ass into gear.

“Not a chance in hell.” He found his voice, slightly wretched, and wrapped an arm around Pete’s outstretched one.

Tom led them both inside, and asked for a table. They were given a booth in the back, both slid into opposite sides, eyes never leaving the other.

Pete had beautiful eyes, they gleamed green like emeralds and never lost their sparkle. Tom’s own widened as he stared and stared, his own hazel gaze roamed all over Pete and his handsome face. Tom was suitably in awe, he couldn’t tear himself away. To objectify, Pete was handsome with gelled jet black hair that was spiked into any and all directions, he had what Tom decided was a slight baby face, that didn’t seem to portray the intense gaze his eyes held. He’d strutted in like the place was free save for him and Tom, wearing a black bomber jacket with pride. He wore a light blue shirt that hung loose over dark, frayed jeans.

Tom was smiling and smiling, as Pete ordered them a bottle of wine. There were moments when he hadn’t even caught Pete’s words. He was too mesmerised, blinded by his smile, enrapt by his laughter and the twinkle of his bewitching eyes.

It was the flush the first glass bought Pete that Tom knew, he had fallen and fallen hard.

Pete was intense, he said what he thought and didn’t regret it. Tom was blunt, within reason, and bold with his movements. They both kept up a healthy conversation, bantered back and fourth, eyes never leaving the sight of the other.

Tom was itching to ask about Pete’s last relationship: why it had failed; about Pete’s wife; his son; why Pete wanted a husband. Why he had married a woman and now wanted a man. But Tom kept quiet, there was time for that.

“So, Pete, where do you work?”

Pete twirled his spaghetti, “I’m a freelance engineer.”

“Wow, that must be.. uh,”

“It’s great. No one to tie my down, I can work as much or as little as I want too.”

“What type of engineer?”

“I’ll fix everything from bikes to cars, to motorcycles.”

“Motorcycles?” Tom smiled again, at the joy the very word seemed to bring to Pete’s face.

“Yeah, I own one. My first love..” he trailed off, laughing. 

Tom joined in. Pete showed him a picture of his ninja, her roaring engine having been taken apart and put back together by him. Tom listened to his story and found himself again, smiling like a loon.

“Fast hands huh?”

Tom nearly choked on his calzone.

“What about you, Tom?”

“I’m a banker by day, performer by night” He winked.

Pete’s eyebrows rose.

“Don’t start thinking dirty, I sing solo for a small jazz band or alone in the local pubs sometimes. I play guitar in my spare time and a little piano.”

“Looks like _you’re_ the one with the fast hands.” Pete’s tone had dropped to a suggestive decibel.

Tom’s eyes widened again, he looked down and was laughing at the sight of his lap. His heart was a flutter, he had damn butterflies in his stomach and some crazy how, he kept on talking and talking. And Pete, just listened.

Further into the night and further into the wine Tom was getting braver and braver, more open, even more blunt with Pete. He had to know, the thought was burning him up inside.

“Why me? Why choose a _man_ after..?” He let it linger.

Pete appeared shocked, his cocky stance faltered for a moment. Tom worried that he had jumped the gun and cornered him too soon but, it had to be said. Why his future husband wanted a husband, it needed to be known.

“I uh, I..” Pete started voice small, “I always uh..”

He broke off and Tom, laid a smooth hand atop of his across the table. He clutched at it tighter and chuckled at the surprised look on Pete’s face.

“Would it help if I went first?” Tom’s voice was rich like silk, Pete nodded willingly.

“I had known from when I was about eight, confirmed it to myself at ten. Began living it around sixteen, I spent my entire life hiding myself and being ashamed of the fact that I.. I’m attracted to men. That I want a _man_ to hold me, that I want to spend the rest of my life with a husband. And finally, after over thirty years of degrading myself about it, I’m proud to admit that, Pete, I’m gay and am finally looking for the love of my life.”

Tom had stunned himself but every word, every syllable had simply rolled off of his tongue, so free and so natural. He’d never ousted himself like that to anyone before. There was something about Pete, something different, that told Tom he could tell him anything and that Pete wouldn’t shy away from it. He wouldn’t judge, he’d revel in the newfound danger.

“Pete, please. Why do you want a man? Why do you want to marry me?”

“I never thought I could.. _love_ a man. That it was wrong, I had been bought up to.. see it as wrong. But when I was younger I.. saw the signs. I knew that there was an attraction but I have never really.. _done_ anything with a man.” Pete still sounded unsure and it made Tom’s heart clench. “I’ve wanted too.. for so long and, uh.”

“Don’t worry about labels. If you can: follow your heart. Don’t worry yourself over what anyone else thinks of you, it isn’t worth the fight.” Tom’s voice was calm, reassuring.

Pete just nodded. Tom could tell, he was hanging onto his every word.

“Pete, if this is going to work, I need you to be honest with me, about your wife.. _ex_\- wife and your son. I’ll never stop you seeing them, I’d want to be apart of them too, if you’d let me.”

It had been on his mind every night for the past month. Tom had always wanted to have children but he had always known, it wouldn’t be an easy feet. He’d jump at the chance to be a part of Pete’s son’s life, if that was what was keeping Pete from falling for Tom. Pete couldn’t just forget that life, Tom wouldn’t allow it. He’d known from the moment he had read ‘divorced’ that the child Pete bought with him would be the only child Tom could ever want.

“We were young. I.. I sang to her in a bar.”

“You.. _sing_?” Tom perked up. He had never told anyone but the thought of finally having the perfect tenor to his baritone made his heart flutter.

“Not very well… but she liked it.” Pete chuckled and Tom was hooked.

Pete kept on talking. His ex-wife’s name was Charlotte. They had been together about eight years, their son’s name was Nick, named after an old childhood friend of Pete who had passed so suddenly. Pete went on and on about Nick, both of them, and Tom couldn’t help but keep smiling.

“If you’ll let me, I’d _love_ to be a part of yours and Nick’s family, Pete. I’d treat him as though he was my own.”

At that, Tom could’ve sworn time had stopped. Pete’s eyes were teary, he reached forward and clasped Tom’s hand again. Their fingers interweaved, their breaths intermingled.

It was now or never.

Tom leant forward, he rose from his seat and Pete followed. He was hesitant at first but, Tom guided Pete’s movements, assuring him what he was doing was okay. It was perfectly normal. Tom kissed him nice and slow, no tongues, just a perfect mould of the two men’s lips. When they broke for air, Pete was smiling. Tom tried to say something and was cut short when he was cornered, Pete loomed into his space as his lips crashed into Tom’s.

Tom kept it going. He stretched himself as far as he could over the table, without knocking any plates or glasses. Pete moaned into his mouth and Tom found himself shivering. He broke away, panting, face flush with a whole new gleam in his hazel eyes.

Tom was a firm believer that he could fall in love at first sight and that kiss, the passion, the heat of the embrace: confirmed it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve had this chapter on my mind for two months now and I’m finally convinced that it’s a good fit. A little time shift here, as the boys are building (and breaking) their relationship day by day.

_I'm not denyin'_  
_I'm frightened as much as you_  
_Though I'm barely touching you_  
_I've shivers down my spine_  
_And it feels divine_

_Oh, show me heaven, babe._

* * *

Tom rolled over with a sigh as he bumped into something firm. Something warm and firm. He peeked one hazel eye open and tried to stifle his laughter, he didn’t want to awake him. Tom rolled back, turning towards the wall, and smiled his handsome smile, full of gleaming white teeth, a blush settling across the tops of his cheeks. 

Last night had been incredible, a whirlwind of: excitement; fear; insecurity; vulnerability and love. Love bled away all of his fears as he took Pete, on his hands and knees. Pete had to have been nervous, with the unsure grip and confusion writ across his face. Tom was then reminded that it had been years for Pete, years since he was loved down, touched and caressed by another man. No man would match Tom and he prayed, that Pete didn’t want anyone else.

He was shaken from his thoughts as he felt a hand flop onto his chest. He craned his neck, eyes following the rough and calloused fingers all the way up to the outstretched shoulders. Pete had rolled over and was spooning him, still asleep.

Tom squirmed, if only for a moment, then he began to cool his suddenly heated skin. The proximity wasn’t enough so he backed, ever so gracefully, into Pete’s muscular frame. Let Pete spoon him, let himself feel Pete all around him, live his open and welcoming aura even with Pete deep within the haze of sleep and dream.

*** 

Tom had just come out of the shower, a crisp white towel tied tight around his waist, showing his delicious hip bones, when he finally heard footsteps. Those footsteps. The footsteps of his dreams.

He turned so that he faced the fogged up mirror. He wiped at it and thus, bought a beautiful reflection into view. Pete was in the open door, hands clutching at the door frame, elongating his torso, his muscles flexing. Tom couldn’t help himself as his mouth watered, he grinned at the blush that began to sweep its way across his tanned skin. His eyes were sparkling as he caught sight of Pete, creeping closer and closer to his slick form.

Tom still jumped every time those hands clasped around him. Whether it be around his neck, his chest or his hips. Tom would shiver, the jolt running up and down his spine like a lightning bolt before he could bring himself to wallow in the sensation and press himself backwards into Pete’s open embrace.

Together they stared at themselves as Pete rose to his tip toes and circled Tom, catching his lips in a tender kiss. It was short and sweet but still, Tom was melting. He was sinking deeper and deeper. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

Tom had a gig tonight. It became apparent very early on that Pete was more than happy to tail Tom and his band on the road. Always. Wherever Tom went, Pete would follow. He’d aim to sit up close and centre, looking up with sheer adoration at Tom’s lovely figure, as his lovely voice crooned the night away. Tom easily got lost in his performance, sinking deep into the loving feeling and sometimes he’d forget about his audience. It was just him and the music, swaying slow to the beat. But never with Pete. Pete’s very presence was powerful enough to remind him he was never alone as he sang solo, voice rich and seductive, eyes closed with two huge hands tight around his microphone. Tom, now, was never alone and he loved having this particular groupie.

Tom served up two plates of bacon and perfectly fluffy scrambled eggs. He wore one of those cringe-worthy ‘kiss the cook’ aprons that of course told Pete what he should do. Tom asked him to pass the coffee and Pete did, lips locking with Tom in a quick and tender embrace.

“How’d I get to be so lucky?” Tom stated as he bought his mug up to his lips.

“I don’t know. You chose me, I chose you. The rest.. is history.” He was met by a beautiful green gaze, a wink, and a colossal grin that threatened to split Pete’s face.

They could sit and talk for hours, easily, but it was a Friday morning. Tom needed to be leaving any minute. Pete didn’t have any clients today so, he too should be heading back to his place. He didn’t live two far, about twenty minutes in the car or just under fifteen if the two of them took the ninja. Tom still wasn’t a huge fan of it but there was just something about Pete literally having his life in his hands that really excited him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

At the car Tom kissed him with a smooth hand clutching at jet black and overly gelled hair. Pete sighed when they disengaged and Tom slipped inside his BMW. He waited for Pete to straddle his bike so that he could follow him until the second junction where Pete went left and Tom went right. More often than not, Tom would leave at an early enough hour that the roads were near enough deserted so, the two of them were side by side in separate lanes. Pete would nod and then rev his engine to life. He’d zoom around the corner and Tom’s foot hit the accelerator, his heart clenching as he turned right.

Tom headed to his gig straight from work, picking up his friends Ron, Leonard and Rick along the way. He and Ron has worked together for years and were the best of friends. He had found it incredibly hard to tell Ron about..himself. To explain the whole situation when Pete came into his life. Tom was incredibly thankful that, as always, Ron was more than happy to be on side. It wasn’t that Tom was convinced he still didn’t understand but the fact that Ron tried so hard to support him: it meant something. It meant a whole hell of a lot.

Tom took to the stage as a Righteous Brothers classic filled the room. The room was silent, transfixed, as the lyrics rolled off of Tom’s tongue, his eyes heavily lidded.

“_But baby, something beautiful’s dying_.”

He’d caught sight of Pete moving away from the front. Inside Tom frowned when he realised that he wasn’t just after a drink. Pete never left his seat when Tom was singing and the fact that he had stalked over and was still with the bar tender, his back to Tom, was concerning. His voice cracked and it earned him an irritated look from Rick, his drummer, that Tom could just make out through the dim of the club’s light.

It wasn’t until that night when Pete had just crawled into bed without kissing him goodnight that Tom realised. It hit him like a ton of bricks.

_Charlotte_.

That was the song Pete said he had whisked his wife away too, in a sleazy bar somewhere downtown. Tom was thankful that he’d never performed at the place. An offer had arose and he promptly turned it down at the look Pete gave when he stated its name out loud.

Pete just rolled over, crunching up on the far side of the bed. Tom felt awful, he hadn’t meant to.. had he hurt Pete? He wasn’t sure how he had. Tom too loved this song and it was key in his running order, a soft song to give himself a little rest but pleasant enough that the crowd still swayed along with him. He promptly noted to remove it from his list.  


***  
  


They didn’t talk the following morning over breakfast. Just cereal today, the look on Pete’s face told Tom that he wasn’t really hungry but he’d still try to have something, even if it took him near half an hour to finish a single bowl.

Tom thought of him all day, with client after client. He could barely focus, all the attention was on Pete and the haunting guise Tom had so abruptly awoken too. It hurt, it really did. He hadn’t meant to stir so much up within Pete. Tom felt so stupid: haunting his love with such a song that tormented him in his past. God, so stupid.

He’d walked back into his house to see Pete slumped over the kitchen table, papers in hand. He peered over, a notice from Pete’s solicitor demanding he pay.. Tom’s eyes widened comically at the figure.

“Hey.”

Pete glanced up, his eyes were a little red. His cheeks a little wet.

“Hey, how was your day, Tom?”

“Awful. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I almost gave out an extra hundred to Mrs Ke—“ He stopped and crouched so he was eye level with Pete. “What happened, baby?”

Pete said nothing, just shoved the papers into Tom’s hands.

“I thought you too were already divorced.” His voice was firm.

“Pretty much. But not legally.” Pete had rushed the final words and Tom, fought to keep his anger at bay.

“Pete.”

“Okay, okay.”

Tom upped and paced about his kitchen, trying to make heads and tails of all this lawyer mumbo-jumbo. He had considered training to be a lawyer all those years ago but his side hustle singing career was just beginning to take off and Tom decided that it was too much of a commitment: Law school. 

Tom had also considered joining the military but that was a story for another night.

He walked back over to Pete, reciting all sorts of fancy terms in his head that he needed to look up to make any sense of the damn thing and Pete just turned to him and waited. Tom dipped his head and kissed him slow and steady like Tom himself: supportive; grounded.

“Her lawyers want me to declare the loans, joint loan, and credit card details of the account we shared. Our house was purely in my name-“

“-the house that she and your son live in, in DC.” Tom stated, with a sigh.

“Yeah.” He sounded defeated and Tom hated that tone.

“Why did it say ‘divorced’ on your profile if you’re not—“

“—It’s taking much longer than we thought. The match maker said I should. Tom, I don’t want to say anymore.”

Tom understood, or at least he thought he did. It pained him but, for his love, he changed his tune.

“That’s fine, Pete. What can we do tonight that’ll cheer you up?”

“_You_.”

Tom rolled his eyes and cursed himself: he was smiling and smiling. He took Pete’s hand in his and lead him to his bedroom.

They went slow, maddeningly slow and steady. Tom asked him for it, to make it purposeful. To make it last. Tom was lying on his back with this legs up and clasping around Pete’s back as Pete carefully moved inside him. He rolled his hips, long and slow. Long and slow.

They both sighed and panted in tandem as Pete’s movements grew stronger and stronger.

Together they lay spent, Tom idly twirling an escaped lock of Pete’s hair as Pete leant into him. He kissed the top of his head and Tom smiled when he heard a small sound of appreciation.

“The court won’t let me see Nick as much. Supervised visits, twice a month.”

Tom tipped his head down, confused.

“Charlotte has claimed that I am an unfit father. I cheated. I left her and _I’m_ the reason we fell apart.”

“Pete, don’t-“

“It’s _my_ fault, Tom. For giving up on her. For wanting—“ He trailed off.

Tom pretended that he didn’t hear ‘for wanting _this_.’ As he rose to sit up against the headboard, he bought Pete up with him.

He didn’t even know what to say. The love of his life was shaking, shoulders quaking as he tried not to cry and curse himself for it; in Tom’s very arms. In Tom’s bed. He couldn’t do anything, even touching Pete felt wrong.

Tom composed himself and kissed that ticklish spot behind Pete’s ear who jumped at the sudden contact. Tom turned Pete’s face to his and again, caught his lips in his own.

They spent the majority of their weekend in bed, Tom’s bed. As much as he hated himself for it, Tom kept Pete there. To try and school his thoughts into anything but her, Nick, the courts, the money.. the list seemed to go on and on. They slept together, Tom on top but something wasn’t right. There was a strange detachment in Pete’s eyes, a weak grip at Tom’s side. At that look, Tom did something he never thought he would. He pulled out and left Pete there, reeling.  
Tom needed to think.


End file.
